“I’m just going to say it.” Viola slammed Wuthering Heights closed. “Everyone in this book is unlikable. How am I supposed to care about this romance when I don’t like the main bloody characters?”

I grinned. “Maybe because you’re reading it as if it’s a romance when it’s not.”

She frowned. “I’ve seen the movie. It’s definitely a romance.”

Laughing, I lifted my legs off the counter and turned toward Viola. “Movies and TV adaptations always angle it like an epic romance, thus the misconception that the novel is a romance. If you try to read it like it’s a romance, you’ll hate it. Wuthering Heights is a book about not-very-nice people doing some not-very-nice things. It’s not about two people who are in love. It’s about two people who are obsessed with each other to the point of utter destruction. It’s gothic and surreal and addictive once you let go of the idea it’s a romance. It’s a love story. There’s a difference.”

Viola thought about this and then nodded. “Okay, maybe I’ll give it another shot. Another time, though. I’m in the mood for something a little more romantic.”

Indeed.

In fiction or in real life?

“Missing that from your life, are you?”

At my question Caro lowered her book to hear Viola’s answer. Viola sighed and sat up, curling her arms around her knees as she drew them toward her chest. “I dumped my boyfriend two weeks before the end of semester.” Her upper lip curled into a sneer. “Noah. He plays for the basketball team. He was cheating on me with one of the bloody cheerleaders.”

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Caro offered gently.

“Yeah, me too. He’s a complete moron.” I frowned at her self-conscious wince. “You’re one of a kind, Viola. Smart, funny, loyal, kind, witty, and although it’s not important, you’ve got the type of stunning beauty that stops people in their tracks.”

Caro nodded. “What she said.”

Viola smirked. “Well, when you put it like that, I sound fantastic.” She glanced between us, her expression somewhat sheepish. “If you want the truth, I think I needed the comedown Noah’s cheating gave me.” At my glower, Vi explained, “Caro will tell you that it hasn’t always been easy growing up in a small village the daughter of a white woman and a black man. Don’t get me wrong, most people are fine. They don’t see my dad’s skin color or mine. But there are some—and I hate to say it—of an older generation, who made it clear they didn’t approve of us.” Her eyes flashed angrily. “It wasn’t just the feud that divided folks here thirty years ago. It was a white girl bringing a black man home.”

I shook my head in despair of such blatant ignorance. “I’m sorry, Viola.”